Even You Need Rest
by ALivingElement
Summary: Desmond thinks Lucy works too hard. He thinks that sleep will help. DesLucy. Don't like, don't read. Reviews are welcomed.


It was another busy day at the hideout. Lucy was trying to make contact with nearby Assassin teams for support for when Desmond can find the Apple, Shaun patching together events in the Renaissance, and Rebecca working on the power generators, occasionally checking on Desmond's status by Lucy's request. So far, just a normal day. That is, if you want to call "hiding from almost everything to protect one guy and rather than our own asses," that works too. And it's Shaun's favorite way of putting it as well.

Then came the time where Lucy got "mother-y" and asked Rebecca to pull Desmond out. As usual, the ex-bartender sat up in the chair, shaking his head lightly, catching a couple deep breaths of air before slowly rising up from the Animus.

"How are you feeling Desmond?" The blond looked over her computer screen over at young man, with an obviously tired look.

"Good. How's your day?" Desmond walked over, and then leaned on the side of Lucy's desk. "You look like you could fall over any second. Get any sleep?"

Lucy merely shook her head and rubbed her temples. "I tried all last night to get one of the surviving teams nearby to help out, but none of them can. Not too many of us are left, and if we don't find that Apple before Vidic…" Her eyes closed and she sighed. "We don't stand a chance."

"Doesn't mean we give up." Desmond took a couple steps towards her and brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "You were the one who got me through my hell in Abstergo."

"But it's different now." Lucy released another sigh and tried her best to smile up at him. "You should get some rest Desmond. You said you wanted to train."

"Yeah." Desmond cracked a small smile and patted Lucy's back. "Don't worry, we can do this. Just don't give up yet."

Desmond groaned, and sat up from the hard, cold ground. Everyone pretended that the dinky sleeping bags that they had were top-notch, best bags in the world, so comfy you won't feel the ground, sleeping bags. _Bull. Shit._ Blasted things hurt more than a week long session in the Animus at Abstergo. But, better crappy-ass sleeping bags then nothing. Desmond looked around to see no one but him was awake. He heard Rebecca's music blasting through her headphones, and Shaun looked like halfway through the night he covered his ears with a pillow. The ex-bartender chuckled a bit and looked around to find Lucy, since she wasn't in the sleeping bag next to him. Almost giving up and about to lay back down for more sleep, he saw a light coming from Lucy's computer. Desmond groaned again and stood up, brushing off a spot of dirt on his arm.

"Ya' know," Desmond's sudden voice made the almost living Lucy jump out of her skin. "I read somewhere that _sleeping is good for you._" He put up his thumbs and nodding, a fake grin on his face.

Lucy scoffed and chuckled. "Sleep doesn't help. I keep dreaming that everything—"

"Lucy, stop." She looked up to him, the computer's light hitting her features, and her exhausted face clearly visible. "It's gonna be okay."

"We can't confirm that. Nothing—"

"Lucy." An annoyed tone voiced back.

"Desmond, please, I need to get this done."

"Lucy."

"I need to find help!"

"_Lucy Stillman._" She sighed and somewhat collapsed into her chair, her hand on her forehead and her thumb rubbing her temple again.

"…What?"

"You need to relax."

"And you know I can't do that."

"Lucy, _relax_."

"Desmond, you know _I can't_." The blond clicked some of the keys and the color on Lucy's face switched from a white hue to a faint green.

"You've got to rest."

"_**Desmond.**_"

"Hey, it's _my_ turn to take care of _you_." Lucy looked back up to him and sighed. The slight headache she had got somewhat stronger and stabbed at her forehead.

"Fine. But if I don't fall asleep in the next five minutes, I'm gonna work again, and you won't complain."

"Deal." Desmond shuffled back to his sleeping area and threw his hoodie to Lucy. "Now put that on. These bags suck." Lucy grabbed it, and stared at him with minor disbelief. Desmond turned back to her and sighed. "Fine, I see how this is."

"I'm not gonna wear your hoodie." She cocked an eyebrow at it, and inspected it like a wedding ring that went through the garbage disposal and was later found in a back-alley dumpster. "Who knows what you do in this stinky thing."

"Hey now," Desmond threw up his hands for defense. "I can understand that lack of sleep makes people grumpy ducklings, but that was just mean." He leaned over to pick up his Blade and was about to place it on Shaun's desk until something clicked in his head. "Wait, what did you mean by 'what do I do?'"

Lucy laughed lightly and stepped closer to him. "Nothing, just a joke with me and Becca."

"You're telling me that joke later, I hope you realize." Desmond chuckled and heard Lucy walking near him. Quickly, he leaned towards her and had his scarred lips near her ear. "Got anything good on Shaun?"

The blond laughed and slowly sat down on top of her sleeping bag, unzipping the sides. After she slid her legs in and pulled off her brown jacket, she snuck Desmond's two toned hoodie under the bag and stuck her arms through the sleeves. Seeing the older get back into the bag, she scooted her's closer to him. "Thanks Des."

"For what?"

"Telling me not to give up."


End file.
